


Οὖτις ἐμοί γ' ὄνομα

by tigerlo



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, Greek Mythology AU, Sheer and utter ridiclousness, Vanity Fest, Vanity Fest 2018, hades au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlo/pseuds/tigerlo
Summary: Winter descends upon the land that Vanessa used to call home, and Charity's old insecurities resurface.(A continuation of the Vanity Hades/Persephone AU)Written for Vanity Fest 2018, Christmas.





	Οὖτις ἐμοί γ' ὄνομα

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve started writing a big Hades fic from Charity’s/ Hades’ POV but it's nowhere near finished, so this is a little bridge piece, my very loose interpretation of a Christmas-themed fic before Christmas was ever something celebrated. 
> 
> This takes place a few decades after Vanessa first takes Charity’s hand and becomes her wife, and again this is utter nonsense so just ignore anything that doesn’t make sense, I’ll never pretend to be accurate with historical stuff but hopefully it’s a bit of fun. 
> 
> Finally, Merry Christmas and happy holidays too, and thank you for reading along with whatever you’ve been reading of mine this year, I hope you’ve had a brilliant holiday, but if your family sucks then I hope this can provide a bit of reprieve from them ;) 
> 
> x

**-**

 

**Οὖτις ἐμοί γ' ὄνομα**

**  
** **Oûtis emoí g' ónoma**

**  
** **(my name is Nobody)**

 

-

 

The snow completely blankets the ground when Charity and Vanessa make their first foray above the surface once winter settles into the land that surrounds Vanessa’s old home.

 

Frank has been dead for years and the tall pillars and columns that make up the palace that Vanessa was born in belong to Tracy and her family now, but nothing else has changed save the continued forward growth of the forest that surrounds the palace some distance back, on all sides.

 

“I hate the snow,” Charity says with an upturned lip as the heat of her body protests the walk over the cold, icy ground.

 

The long dress of dark grey brushes the ground as she takes step after step, the black fur across her shoulders - for decoration, not necessity given the eternal heat of Charity’s skin - moving with her movements, almost giving the illusion that the animal the fur once belonged to still lived.

 

“I know you do,” Vanessa replies with a smile, squeezing her arm where it’s threaded through Charity’s as they walk to the palace steps. “You didn’t have to come, though, if you protest its presence so much. I said I wouldn’t be gone long.”

 

Vanessa is dressed in a complementary contrast for their visit, her dress long but an ashy white instead of grey, the fur over her own shoulders pure white with tips of black. It’s showy, almost too opulent for Vanessa’s tastes, even after the decades she's spent in the luxury of Charity’s palace, and her own father's before that, but Charity had insisted.

 

_You look breathtaking in the white_ , Charity had whispered after Vanessa had turned her back towards Charity to allow her to fasten the closures together. _Wear it for me_ , she had sighed, her lips ghosting along the line of Vanessa’s shoulder, _and I’ll make it well worth your while when we return._

 

“Are you saying you wouldn’t want me in anything else?” Vanessa had asked, turning once Charity had finished her task.

 

“I always want you,” Charity had growled, pulling Vanessa back to her, her hands hungry, almost bruising on Vanessa’s hips. “Always. But white reminds me of all the spoiling I can do the instant we’re alone. Or perhaps before then, if I’m feeling particularly impatient.”

 

She’s glad of the choice now, glad of the distraction it will likely provide with the way Charity’s eyes glaze in displeasure at the temperature beneath their feet.

 

“I know,” Charity says somewhat testily in reference to Vanessa’s offer for her to stay in the warmth of their home, glaring at her.

 

They’ve been together for decades now but there’s something about this time of year that always makes Charity more short-tempered than she normally is. The cold tends to take more lives than the heat of summer does, and Charity’s often more encumbered by her duties than she would be ordinarily, but Vanessa doesn’t think it’s only that.

 

“Is everything alright?” Vanessa asks plainly, turning to Charity before they walk up and into the palace. She’s long stopped worrying about directness, not only because she knows that Charity far prefers it herself.

 

“Everything’s fine, love,” Charity says like it’s a reflex before she softens, as if realising who it is she’s speaking to. “I’m sorry,” she says in a calmer voice, turning to Vanessa, “I just loathe the cold. It makes my skin crawl. I’d much rather be wrapped up in the warmth of our home or in our bed all season, not retrieving the weak that couldn’t make it through to the spring.”

 

“I miss you too, you know,” Vanessa replies softly, reaching up to run her thumb along the line of Charity’s jaw. “When you’re away more in the winter. I’m glad you came with me, even if you frighten the whole house with that frown.”

 

The stone in Vanessa’s ring flares bright and hot at the contact, particularly so when her thumb moves to the corner of Charity’s lips and Charity’s hands curl around her waist, cupping the bottom of her rib cage. Vanessa feels the snow at their feet melt rapidly as the ground warms to a comfortable heat beneath her bare heels.

 

“They’ll be watching from inside, you know?” Vanessa says breathlessly as Charity pulls her closer, the temperature of her skin through the fabric of their dresses almost searing.

 

“I don’t care,” Charity replies devilishly, one of her hands sliding down Vanessa’s lower back, curving around her backside. “When have I ever cared?”

 

“Never,” Vanessa breathes, drawing air into half of her lungs before Charity kisses her hard, groaning loud enough at the contact that Vanessa feels her knees shake with it.

 

Charity’s arm locks around Vanessa’s waist, giving her something to lean back against as the kiss deepens and Vanessa buries her hands in Charity’s hair, closing her fists tightly and drawing a pleased sigh from Charity’s chest.

 

“I could bear the cold of the forest if it meant I could have you pressed up against a tree,” Charity hums to the pulse in Vanessa’s neck.

 

Her voice is intoxicating, perhaps even more so than when Vanessa first heard it, after the years and years they’ve spent together and the weight of memory behind it. It raises the hair all over her body when it lowers beyond a certain note, and her heart race in her chest, and the centre of her palms ache in anticipation of Charity’s warmth beneath them.

 

“Don’t the two of you have a whole realm for that?” comes a voice through the cold, cutting the growing tension gathering between them.

 

Tracy appears on the threshold of the palace with a small child on her hip the splitting likeness of her, and Vanessa feels her smile threaten to break from her body at the sight.

 

“About time the two of you arrived,” Tracy teases, turning to the small girl on her hip. “We thought your aunts might neglect their visit this year, didn’t we, my darling?”

 

“It’s not that late in the season,” Charity drawls, winking to the little girl in Tracy’s arms. “I’m sure the rest of your family hasn’t minded our absence at all.”

 

Most of the children in this world fear the two of them, Charity certainly but Vanessa more and more as the knowledge of her position and power weaves its way into legend and myth, Tracy’s own children included, but there is one of the three that seems to partially ignore the warning of danger written all over the both of them, set to adore them completely with a hesitant reverence instead of only fear.

 

“Would you like to say hello?” Tracy asks the little girl in her arms gently, gesturing with her chin to Vanessa and Charity.

 

There’s the smallest hint of trepidation when Tracy sets her down on her feet, just enough for the lack of fear to be benign to the both of them. Charity had explained the importance of that in the very early stages of their marriage, how crucial it was for them to exist around fear, how excruciating the lack of it is to them.

 

It hadn’t been easy for Vanessa to make peace with, the idea that their perpetuation depended solely on anger and hatred towards them, but she understands the necessity of it.

 

It’s part of Charity’s curse, the dependence on fear, the cost of their eternal love. And now it’s a part of hers too.

 

It’s not difficult a thing to find though, fear, because Charity herself is power and dominance and terror personified, and Vanessa is by extension and association now also. Charity has explained in detail the price of an absence of fear, and she knows that this little girl would be a threat, a potentially immense one, if there wasn’t a healthy dose of trepidation and hesitation in the way she looks almost longingly after them.

 

Vanessa watches as the little head of blonde hair nods and Tracy sets her down on the ground carefully. She holds her hands carefully at her sides as she approaches them, her palms open like she had been taught as soon as she’d been old enough to understand that was the proper way to approach Charity respectfully.

 

“Hello, Hades,” the little girl says quietly, bowing to Charity before turning to Vanessa. “Hello, Aunt.”

 

“Hello, darling,” Vanessa replies with a regal nod. She bends down, lowering herself to her niece’s level.

 

She’s only just seen five years, but her maturity outstrips every child around her. She looks at Vanessa slightly nervously before she holds out her hand. “Would you like to come inside?” she offers politely. “We’ve been preparing the feast in your honour for days.”

 

“And what have you helped with?” Charity asks the girl at Vanessa’s side, her little hands closing around Vanessa’s tightly in surprise at Charity addressing her openly.

 

“I helped Mama pick the flowers for the table,” she says quietly, not quite looking Charity in the eye. “And the winter fruit, also.”

 

“Very good,” Charity nods in approval, smiling to Vanessa when a blush covers her cheeks. “Shall we begin the feast then?” she asks with a raised eyebrow, “and get out of this wretched cold.”

 

“Aunt Vanessa used to hate the winter too,” the little girl says as she leads Vanessa by the hand inside. “Mama told me so. Even before she married you.”

 

“One of the many reasons I love her,” Charity replies with a serious nod as she follows behind the two of them, clasping her hands in front of her as she walks a few feet removed.

 

Tracy waits for Vanessa and her daughter to walk past her before she falls into step behind them. Vanessa can picture her exact position without the need to glance backwards, near but behind Charity as a show of respect.

 

“Are you well?” Vanessa hears Charity ask Tracy as they make their way inside. “Has the winter been harsh here?”

 

“You and I both know that we haven’t had a harsh winter here since my sister left with you in that field,” Tracy says in reply, and Vanessa smiles at her sister’s awareness.

 

“Luck, perhaps,” Charity says flippantly, the smile just audible in her voice, and only then because Vanessa knows the precise sound of it.

 

“Yes,” Tracy laughs, the softness of it washing over the back of Vanessa’s neck. “Luck, indeed.”

 

-

 

The banquet hall is laden with food and decorations when Vanessa and Charity finally walk through the marble arch,

into the great room. Vanessa’s niece scuttles away from her side just before they enter, allowing Vanessa and Charity to walk in ahead of them.

 

Charity’s hand slips into her own before they cross the threshold, threading her fingers between Vanessa’s, her skin heating with the contact as she takes in the show of respect in front of them.

 

She could almost forgive herself for thinking they were in the forest if she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, a number of the evergreen trees lining the edges of the room, winter flowers and already-dead branches carrying the image throughout the room.

 

A few of the servants file in alongside the two of them once Charity looks around the room and nods her approval, offering them a glass of deep red wine. Charity takes both of them initially, handing Vanessa hers with a smirk, waiting until Vanessa smiles in return before she takes a sip.

 

“Your father had his disappointments, but keeping a stock of good wine was not one of them,” Charity hums, curling her arm around Vanessa’s waist, kissing Vanessa deeply when she takes her own sip and lowers the glass.

 

“Can you think of another?” Vanessa asks coyly. She leans into the pull of Charity’s body, almost forgetting their location completely when Charity’s lips move from her mouth to her neck so she can whisper in Vanessa’s ear.

 

“Yes,” Charity purrs, taking Vanessa’s earlobe between her teeth, tugging until Vanessa groans softly. “I wed her.”

 

“Is the feast to your liking?” Tracy asks softly, breaking the moment between them again.

 

There’s more reluctance in her voice now, in spite of the fact that she doesn’t openly fear Charity. It’s a complicated balance Tracy has to strike, between familiarity and respect, and Vanessa knows that it’s difficult not to feel afraid of disappointing Charity. They’ve obviously spent weeks planning the offering in front of them, and Charity’s approval is powerful, something to be proud of if it is given.

 

“Very much so,” Charity nods smoothly, offering Tracy a rare warm smile. “It’s a very suitable offering, Tracy.”

 

The thank you is implicit but Charity won’t speak it out loud, she doesn’t to anyone save Vanessa. Tracy takes the approval with a grateful nod though, obviously immensely pleased with Charity’s reaction, and she gives them both a small bow before gesturing for them both to take a seat. The servants move around them discreetly as they do so, loading their plates with an offering of the food before they melt back into the corners of the room, waiting for the feast to begin.

 

It’s not unusual for high born families to request that someone lower born sample their food for them before they eat themselves, some male heads of families wait for their wives or children to eat before they do, but Charity has always insisted on sampling food before Vanessa.

 

“It can’t harm either of us,” Vanessa had once protested. “Not kill us anyway, so why not allow me?”

 

“I’d rather walk into a fire that actually burnt me than allow you to come to the smallest amount of harm, even knowing it won’t cause permanent damage,” Charity had replied quickly, shaking her head in an immediate refusal. “Completely apart from the fact that if something had been poisoned, chances are that they’re trying to attack me. No, Vanessa, I’ll never expect you to front my enemies for me. I’ll do everything to keep you safe from them. Pure cowardice is expecting someone to face what has come for you, even more so expecting someone you love to.”

 

Charity doesn’t wait then before savouring the first bite of the feast in front of her, looking Vanessa straight in the eye as she takes a piece of cut meat off the fork with her teeth. It sometimes seems a ridiculous facade, eating, given they derive their sustenance from Charity’s power. Charity doesn’t need to at all, and Vanessa hasn’t had to in years, but there’s a pleasure in it still when fruit is particularly ripe, or meat is cooked to perfection. Which, judging by the way Charity’s eyes close in a silent ecstasy as she savours the mouthful, this is.

 

Vanessa takes a sampling of the meat herself, gesturing to Tracy subtly as she does so, motioning for the others to begin to eat as well. They gorge themselves as befits an offering like this, until the table is cleared of all food, save a few scraps for the dogs that Tracy keeps to preserve the small herd of livestock that the household looks after.

 

“Why do we celebrate the winter in your honour as well as Dionysus?” one of Tracy’s older children, a son, asks some time later as Vanessa leans against Charity’s arm, resting across the high back of her chair.

 

“Because Hades hates the winter,” one of the other children explains before Vanessa has the chance to answer. “We must give her something in a show of respect so that she might be just even through the cold months.”

 

Vanessa squeezes Charity’s thigh under the table, trying to suppress a smirk, lest she give herself and her amusement away.

 

She knows full well that Charity hates the cold, but she hasn’t hated the winter like she used to in a long time. Sure, she’s caught up in her duties with more regularity at this time of the year, but the winter is prolonged by Vanessa’s presence below the earth, not above the ground. The winter means that Vanessa is all Charity’s, that she doesn’t have to share her with the human world. That she doesn’t have to share her with anyone.

 

“Does it work, Hades?” the smallest child, the one who had met them outside asks Charity carefully from where she sits on her mother’s knee. “Does it make the season more pleasant?”

 

“It does,” Charity replies gracefully, nodding as she takes Vanessa’s hand from her knee without a word, sliding her own up Vanessa’s thigh instead.

 

“With the last of your questioning comes your bed, I think,” Tracy says, looking to the head of blonde hair in her arms, and then beyond, to the rest of her children.

 

They erupt in a simultaneous groan of protest but are scooped up by the well-practised hands of the servants, and shuffled out of the room, leaving Charity and Vanessa alone with Tracy and a selection of other families from the area who had also come to repay their respects.

 

“We are glad the offering makes the season more pleasant, Hades,” one of the nobles offers from the opposite side of the banquet table, their eyes not quite meeting Charity’s as they speak. It’s a sign of respect for some, and an indication of fear for others, either of which Vanessa knows suits Charity and her godliness just fine.

 

“Remarkably more pleasant, in fact,” Charity breathes, the edges of her voice brimming subtly with power as her hand proceeds higher up Vanessa’s leg.

 

It feels like she’s touching bare skin and isn’t hampered by the weight of Vanessa’s dress, such is the power of their magic, until Vanessa feels a familiar warmth spread across her thighs. She chances a discreet glance downwards, watching with a racing heart as her dress burns silently under Charity’s palm from the knee up.

 

_Charity_ , Vanessa growls internally, warningly, knowing full well that Charity will hear her as clearly as if she had spoken aloud.

 

“In fact,” Charity says casually, continuing to engage with the conversation as her hand moves higher up Vanessa’s thigh, pushing them apart slightly as her hand comes to the apex between them. “I’d go so far as to say,” Charity continues, so high that Vanessa can feel the heat of her fingertips as she schools her face into a precise neutrality, “it makes a _very_ big difference indeed.”

 

She turns to Vanessa, their eyes meeting when she touches Vanessa properly, the tips of her fingers slipping against the collected warmth and her eyes glowing red with the pleasure of what she finds. It’s far from the first time that she’s challenged Vanessa’s ability to keep an unaffected face, and Vanessa knows it won’t be the last, either.

 

It’s a reminder also that while Charity as a god is just and reasonable and calm most of the time, she has an unbridled wickedness too, and if there’s something she wants, particularly Vanessa, she’ll have it, whether they’re alone or not.

 

There’s nothing above the level of the table that would give Charity’s little game away to the rest of their visitors, but if anyone comes close, one of them will need to throw some kind of hasty glamour over what is really going on to obscure their moment of intimacy.

 

“Wouldn’t you say, Vanessa?” Charity asks as the pressure of her fingers threatens to break the calm on Vanessa’s face. “I’m significantly more amenable to be around if there’s the odd banquet thrown in my name to get me through the dreadful cold?” She tilts her head patiently as she waits for Vanessa’s answer, shuffling closer with a practised subtly, allowing her touch to move dangerously low.

 

_You’ll pay for this when we get home_ , Vanessa hisses silently to Charity, but she only smiles in a visible response before she speaks a quick and inaudible, _I do hope so_ , in reply.

 

Her fingers circle more firmly, and Vanessa berates herself for it, but her thighs part wider to allow Charity more room to move as she clears her throat to speak.

 

“I believe they do,” Vanessa replies evenly as Charity dips into sweet warmth, not looking at anyone else in the room as she sighs her final word, “yes.”

 

She can feel the connection of their locked gaze like a palpable touch across the rest of her body, and the urge to lean forward and kiss Charity like the end of the world waits at the window outside is almost too strong to beat back down, but just as Vanessa’s will begins to waver and she toys with the idea of demanding Charity take them home, immediately, the hand between her thighs retreats completely.

 

Vanessa groans out loud at its loss, and the table looks to her instantly, their sight drawn like the noise had been a scream and not an almost-whisper.

 

“Is everything alright, love?” Charity asks with an innocence that makes Vanessa want to snap and drag her sharply from the room, spectacle be damned.

 

“It will be,” Vanessa says casually, gritting her teeth as she holds her wine glass up in an attempt to regain control of her pounding heart.

 

The group assembled around them have long since learnt not to question either her or Charity on any matter whatsoever, and this sideways conversation is not uncommon between them, so they fall back into conversation amongst themselves without missing a beat. The distraction away from them gives Vanessa a chance to openly turn and glare at Charity sharply.

 

“Do you enjoy testing me like this?” Vanessa asks, sliding her arm over Charity’s lap as she leans across Charity’s torso to whisper in her ear.

 

“Yes,” Charity answers immediately, nuzzling into Vanessa’s neck before biting the tingling skin around her pulse, the action hidden by the curtain of Vanessa’s hair.

 

Vanessa’s glad for the privacy, even gladder that she’s not facing the table directly, because it takes biting her lip sharply to stop her making a sound this time.

 

“I enjoy it immensely, love,” Charity hums against her skin, the wet flesh vibrating under her teeth. “Haven’t you realised that yet? After all these years?”

 

“I have some small idea,” Vanessa sighs, her nails sinking into the meat of Charity’s thigh as she struggles to remain on solid ground, despite the heavy wooden chair she’s seated on.

 

“As I have some small idea that you enjoy it, too,” Charity says with a smile Vanessa can feel against her neck.

 

“I rather enjoy it more when it’s not in front of half the village,” Vanessa replies moodily, preening when Charity’s lips press delicately up the column of her throat.

 

“That’s entirely your fault for being so completely irresistible,” Charity drawls, sinking her teeth into Vanessa’s neck hard enough to make Vanessa hiccup in protest. “You know,” she whispers hotly, “if this was anyone but your own family, I’d order them out of the room and have you on the table.”

 

“If this was anyone but my own family, I’d demand it of you,” Vanessa replies, feeling Charity shiver against her, watching the red in her eyes burn when she finally puts some distance between them.  

 

She’ll never tire of that, of catching Charity slightly on the back foot, of surprising her, of rivalling her seemingly bottomless desire.

 

The room seems to reanimate around them as Vanessa settles back into her chair, and she realises as Tracy’s eyes finally meet hers properly that Charity must have put a glamour around them without her even realising. She looks down to the fabric in her lap, the silk of her dress burning in reverse as the fibres heal and knit back together, covering her bare skin again.

 

“They’re calling you Persephone, now,” Tracy says to Vanessa as Charity’s arm drapes over her shoulders and she moves back into Charity’s side, “did you know?”

 

“I’ve heard,” Charity says with a distinct sharpness in her voice. “I don’t think it’s meant to be an endearment, either.”

 

“Why?” Vanessa asks, frowning as she watches Tracy’s carefully calm face. “Why do they do so?”

 

“It’s their condition. They want to separate you from your humanity,” Charity explains emotionlessly. “You’re a deity now, Vanessa, the wife of the god of the underworld, and deities cannot be human, or have human qualities. They cannot love, they cannot be just. Mortals need to turn you into something they can hate and fear, something that is not them, something that when they cry foul against is far from a reflection of themselves.” Charity sighs deeply before taking another sip of wine. “They have no power, and yet they rewrite history with every passing year through their action. Eventually, your human name will be forgotten, and they’ll remember you as they want to. Vanessa will fade into obscurity and only Persephone will remain.”

 

Charity must see the look of upset cross Vanessa’s face when she ceases speaking because she snaps her fingers without a word, and the world freezes around them. She reaches immediately for Vanessa’s hand, lacing their fingers together, tugging until Vanessa lifts her chin and looks Charity in the eye.

 

“It’s a good thing, love,” Charity says, her voice soft like it is when she knows that only Vanessa can hear her. “It solidifies their fear this way, it raises you on a plinth alongside me. It means that you’ll live forever, and that I can love you until the universe ends, and not a second shorter than that.”

 

“It’s ridiculous,” Vanessa replies, shaking her head to dispel tears. “I knew this was going to happen, I knew eventually who I was would be lost, but…” she looks up to Charity again, squeezing her hand, “it’s sad. It makes me sad. It feels almost like a kind of death?”

 

“It is, in a way, love,” Charity says calmly. She takes a long, slow breath in and looks at Vanessa, beyond facade and illusion until Vanessa feels something deeply intimate in her chest _click_ into place like Charity’s found a key that fits a lock there. “And I’m sorry,” Charity offers with a regretful sigh that makes Vanessa’s spine tingle, “I’m sorry that you’re losing that for me. Because of me. I’m sorry that this - this life - means giving up your humanity and your mortality and your family. I’m sorry, Vanessa, for what this has cost you.”

 

“Charity,” Vanessa says, shaking her head without even stopping to think, “there’s nothing to apologise for, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t give up for you. To be with you. There’s _nothing_ more important than you. Yes, I miss things from my human life, but I wouldn’t swap you for anything. Not my humanity or my mortality or my family.”

 

“Not your family?” Charity asks keenly, with more than a little doubt in her voice.

 

“No, not even them,” Vanessa replies, squeezing Charity’s hand firmly. She can see that Charity doesn’t take the affirmation into her chest though, she can see the uncertainty linger and hover over her skin. “Charity,” she says more sternly, tugging Charity closer, “not even them. You’re my family. You have been for decades. You’re all I need, I promise you that.”

 

“Alright, love,” Charity says with a solemn nod, smiling gently, but not allowing the gesture to meet her eyes. She waves her hand dismissively and the room reanimates around them, the chatter continuing.

 

“Do you like it?” Tracy says to Vanessa, looking at her from across the table, and it takes her a moment to realise what it is that she’s asking.

 

“The name?” Vanessa questions, holding tightly onto Charity’s hand in her lap. “I suppose it’s fine. I’d prefer my own, but it’s not my decision, is it? They can call me what they like. It’s only a name, after all. I know who I am.”

 

And it’s the truth: now, here, in this moment, she does. Only the _who_ she truly is has changed, breath by breath, over the last few decades. Sometimes slowly like the glow of her skin and the colour of her eyes, and sometimes rapidly like her sudden absence of mortality, it has irreversibly changed.

 

Vanessa knows who she is in her core, and some base part of that will never change, but there’s so much that has. She has a home that she belongs to now, she has a purpose, she has a meaning and a foundation and a love that she never had before.

 

She knows all of this, and she knows that Charity does too, but she sees it waver sometimes, in situations like this, when Vanessa is surrounded by her family and the people she used to know in her old life, she sees the worry in Charity’s eyes, that this is something Vanessa yearns for and misses more than she lets on.

 

They drink long into the evening, and Vanessa feels Charity grow more and more distant as the night stretches out before them, as the discussion turns to mundane human things, children, happenings in the village, and Vanessa does her earnest best to balance her engagement in the conversation with the tension she can feel in Charity’s frame beside her.

 

It’s times like this that she wishes she had half the power Charity had. Her own has grown a hundredfold since she first took a bite of the pomegranate in the hall that began as Charity’s and would become theirs, but she is a thousand leagues away from Charity’s own still. She wants to stop everything and turn to Charity and shake some modicum of sense into her, to remind her of the things she’s told her again and again and again, but she knows that she doesn’t have the power to pause time like Charity does, not quite the strength she needs for an enchantment powerful enough to obscure them from the whole room all at once.

 

Vanessa knows that it’s only this, it’s only family that makes Charity draw away like she is now, some deep sense of guilt that she has stolen something from Vanessa. It hadn’t mattered so much before Tracy had found them, but her compassion and her love had given Vanessa a tie to this world that she hadn’t had when she had first taken Charity’s hand.

 

“Is Hades the name they gave you?” Tracy asks Charity as their companions around the table start to wane and drift back to their own homes. “Or were you given both in the beginning?”

 

“It’s the name my father gave me, although I was given both at the same time,” Charity explains, “Hades is my cursed name. Charity binds me to this form, but Hades binds me to my duties and my power. They’re inseparable, tied together elementally but the only people that know both of them are my family, my brothers, or the people who have met me.”

 

“Do people often call you by your other name?” Tracy asks carefully, as their other guests leave, all of whom nod respectfully to Charity on their way out, “even when they do know it?”

 

“No,” Charity sighs next to Vanessa once the room is empty, save the three of them. “They don’t care for who I am, they only care for what I do, and it isn’t Charity that does those things, it’s Hades.”

 

Tracy nods in understanding as she begins to pour the three of them another glass of wine, but Charity stops her before Tracy can fill her glass. Vanessa feels a tingle run through Charity’s body as close as she is to her, both physically and mentally, as she raises her hand to refuse the refill.

 

“I’m afraid I need to go,” Charity says neutrally before she offers Tracy a brief smile. “I shall leave you in Vanessa’s company though. I’m sure you have a number of things you’d rather discuss in my absence.”

 

“I’ll come with you,” Vanessa replies quickly, turning to Charity as she releases Vanessa’s hand and smoothes down the front of her dress over her lap.

 

“Why don’t you stay?” Charity offers, curling her palm over Vanessa’s shoulder when she stands from her seat. “Call for me in the morning, and I’ll return for you then.”

 

Charity speaks in a perfectly calm voice, but the offer feels like a blow to the gut, and the offer, while reasonably simple, is enough to make Vanessa’s head spin as she attempts to make sense of it. She doesn’t have enough power to glamour the whole room, but she does to hide them from just her sister, and she waves her hand through the air in Tracy’s direction before turning to Charity with a look that’s part hurt, part confusion and part anger.

 

“What do you mean, _stay here_ ,” Vanessa says crossly, pushing back from the table and standing to meet Charity on her feet. It doesn’t bring them level, because Charity’s still a head taller than her, but it’s better than being seated.

 

“I don’t think it’s a complicated sentence, Vanessa,” Charity replies testily, but her face softens almost immediately. “I’m sorry, love,” she says, reaching for Vanessa’s hand again. “I don’t mean to- look, just stay here for the evening, will you? I need to tend to a few matters, and you’ll be alone in the palace, anyway. Stay here with your sister. Enjoy her company.”

 

“No,” Vanessa says, shaking her head in frustration. “I want to go home, I know you’ll need to see to things, but I’ll be there when you return, I want to be there, I always am.”

 

“The winter is for celebrating family, isn’t it?” Charity reasons, her eyes tired as she looks down to Vanessa. “I’m sure Tracy would be pleased to have you here for a while longer.”

 

“I don’t care what she wants,” Vanessa snaps, tightening the hand holding Charity’s as though a firmer grip will make her see reason. “Charity, I want to come home.”

 

“This was your home once, too,” Charity replies with a calm rationality that makes Vanessa want to scream.

 

It’s something that seems to have come with her power and their bond, a small sliver of Charity’s temper. Sometimes it makes her magic stronger but occasionally it unsettles it, makes it unstable, and that’s exactly what her anger and frustration does now, severing the solid barrier between them and Tracy, dropping it completely, allowing Tracy to blink as her lucidity comes back to her.  

 

“Don’t, Vanessa,” Charity says with a firmness that stops Vanessa in her tracks when she tenses her jaw to raise it again, holding her hand up between them as Tracy frowns at having missed an obvious and important part of some exchange. “Don’t. Just stay. I’ll see you when you wake.”

 

It’s tempting to get up and make a scene like the infuriatingly silent one that Charity is making, but she can see the hurt in Charity’s dismissal, and she knows that she’ll struggle to get Charity to see rationality now, even if every part of her is screaming at her not to allow Charity to leave here alone.

 

“I love you,” Charity says to Vanessa directly, crossing in front of Vanessa as she kisses her goodbye, hiding their exchange from Tracy’s respectfully bowed head.

 

“I love you too,” Vanessa breathes into the kiss, leaning into Charity’s warmth as it glows like a furnace around her, sighing when Charity’s arm slides around her lower back and she squeezes tightly.

 

“Thank you for coming,” Tracy says when Charity moves away from Vanessa, her hand sliding down Vanessa’s arm from her shoulder to circle around her wrist.

 

“My pleasure,” Charity replies with a nod to Tracy as her touch slips from Vanessa’s skin and her hand falls to her side.

 

She looks one final time to Vanessa before she spins on her heel and turns towards the archway they walked in through. The smoke begins to gather and billow around her before she reaches the other side, and in a matter of seconds the shape of her obscured form is gone completely, and just Vanessa and her sister remain.

 

“Is everything alright?” Tracy asks Vanessa carefully, reaching over to fill her wine glass to the brim again.

 

“I don’t know,” Vanessa replies with a heavy sigh. “I think so, but…”

 

“I understand, if you need to go, I mean,” Tracy says, reaching across the table to take Vanessa’s hand. “If you need to go after her.”

 

“Let’s finish our drinks, shall we?” Vanessa says in place of a direct response. “It always does better to leave her for a while when she’s…”

 

“She isn’t angry, is she?” Tracy asks cautiously, looking at Vanessa over the top of her wine glass. “We didn’t do anything to-“

 

“No,” Vanessa replies with a firm shake of her head. “No, it’s not… I think it’s something else.” She catches sight of the deeply worried look on Tracy’s face, smiling in an attempt at reassurance. “Everything will be fine, Trace,” she offers effortlessly, because she knows it will be, “I promise.”

 

They sit in an easy silence for most of their remaining time alone, something Vanessa has never found with anyone but Charity. There’s a lifelong ease between the two of them, like they truly were borne of the same seed, but for all of that, for all of the peace that comes with the air around Tracy, it’s still nothing near the calm she has with Charity.

 

The irony of this is laughable, Vanessa understands that completely, that with the god of death, she finds peace.

 

“Thank you for the evening,” Vanessa says finally, once the last drop of wine is drained, setting the cup down on the table carefully.

 

There are lines around Tracy’s eyes when she smiles and stands to meet Vanessa. She’s far from death yet, but her youth is a distant friend too, and it hasn’t been easy to watch her grow older as Vanessa herself has remained eternally ageless and fixed in time. It’s a curse of its own, the stasis of her own body as the people she knew in her old life grow frail and fade away, and she’s not certain what she’ll do once that inescapable fate finds Tracy too.

 

“Thank you for coming,” Tracy says softly, giving Vanessa a half-bow before she sweeps her up into a tight hug.

 

“My pleasure,” Vanessa replies with a smile as she straightens up, feeling the air pop between the spaces in her spine. “I’ll visit again soon?”

 

“Please,” Tracy responds warmly, walking Vanessa through the palace to the front steps they entered up. “I know it’s a different place for you now, this world, our home, but it’s very nice to have you here.”

 

Vanessa presses one last kiss to Tracy’s cheek, bidding her sister goodnight, before she starts her walk over the blanketed white grass towards the forest, thick with evergreens, even in the dead of winter.  

 

_Charity_ , she says in her mind, throwing the thought out broadly, deeply, feeling the tingle of recognition when her call reaches her wife.

 

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, clenching her fists at her sides and drawing her strength from the ring heavy on her finger, and deep within her chest, until she feels the smoke of their joint magic swirl around her, throwing loose strands of her hair up into the cold air.

 

It isn’t an easy piece of magic, travelling between realms, it’s not effortlessly simple for her like it is for Charity, and it’s not something she does regularly, preferring to travel with Charity rather than alone, but this is important, and she finds it’s so much easier when the desire to be near Charity burns desperately in her chest like a hot coal.

 

_Charity_ , she says again as the white and green of her old world begins to dissolve, and she feels heat seep back into her bones. _I’m coming home_.

 

-

 

Vanessa’s not surprised to find Charity where she does, sitting motionless on her throne like the god she is, when she materialises into the throne room.  

 

Charity pauses for a moment, waiting for Vanessa to express some sentiment about finding her there, but Vanessa doesn’t hesitate, nor show any indication or hint of surprise, she just sighs in soft relief instead.

 

“Are you angry with me?” is the first thing Charity asks when Vanessa makes her way across the smooth marble to the raised focal point of the room.

 

The smoke swirls around the hem of Vanessa’s dress as she walks like there’s some kind of magic drawing it against the fabric, but it dissolves into thin air completely by the time she reaches Charity, dissipating across the room.

 

There’s a tension in Charity’s jaw and the way her hands grip the arms of her chair that makes Vanessa aware that she needs to tread carefully here. It tells her that an open frustration will get them nowhere, save Charity’s absence for a night or two as she burns her frustration off by picking a fight with whichever unlucky soul chose this day to try and bargain with the god of the dead.

 

“No, of course I’m not,” Vanessa says in reply, without hint of frustration, stopping an arms-length away from Charity.

 

She has a throne of her own now, seated up next to Charity’s, grand and bold and a suitable pair to its other, but she doesn’t take her place on it just yet, standing in front of Charity with her hands clasped over her stomach instead.

 

“What are you, then?” Charity asks with a frown, a look of annoyance crossing her face at not being able to make sense of the situation, or deduce Vanessa’s mood, herself.

 

Vanessa knows how foreign a concept this is to Charity, that Vanessa demonstrates reason in the place of open aggression or argument. It’s something that she’s never been able to truly comprehend, Vanessa’s rationality, cannot still, not even after all this time.

 

“I’m hurt that you left without me,” Vanessa explains calmly, watching as Charity’s face falters slightly at the admission, “but mostly I’m sorry, for not thinking before I reacted to Tracy’s comment. I’m sorry for ever giving you any cause to think anything other than that my future with you is the only thing that matters.”

 

There’s a long, heavy pause before Charity answers her, but Vanessa doesn’t bother prompting her or pushing. She learnt a long time ago that Charity speaks when she wants to, and not a moment sooner. She holds Charity’s gaze the whole way through the silence, her breath barely audible as the red of Charity’s eyes bores almost uncomfortably into her own.

 

She can feel Charity trying to find and keep hold of calm as it wriggles and slips through her fingers, but still Vanessa doesn’t say a word, not of admonishment or support. Charity needs quiet when she’s like this, and Vanessa has long since learnt to respect that, too.

 

“It’s infuriating sometimes, you know,” Charity says eventually through gritted teeth. “Sometimes I want to burn a city down and yet there you stand, as calm as still water.”

 

“Who would that help?” Vanessa asks, taking a step closer to Charity. They’re still not near enough to touch, but Vanessa can feel the relief in her proximity move through Charity’s body regardless. “My anger will only make this worse, and I spoke the truth before. I’m not angry.”

 

“I’m sorry that I left you,” Charity replies sullenly. She doesn’t drop her head though, and Vanessa’s thankful for it, of the chance to see the apology in her eyes.

 

“It’s nice to know a few thousand years of existence doesn’t guarantee complete self-control,” Vanessa says with a smirk, because she’s not interested in punishing Charity for her reflexive flight back here, it’s just as deeply ingrained as Vanessa’s patience is.

 

She’s half-expecting a snapped response to her playful remark, but Charity’s reaction is much more satisfying. She reaches forward almost quicker than Vanessa can follow, capturing Vanessa’s wrist in her hand and pulling Vanessa to her, stopping just short of pulling Vanessa into her lap.

 

“Show some respect,” Charity growls, tightening her grip around Vanessa’s wrist, sliding the other around her backside, palming the flesh firmly. There’s no hint of anger in her voice though, nor in the way her eyes sparkle. “Don’t you know who I am?” Charity says in a low and dangerous tone as Vanessa’s whole body warms.

 

“I do,” Vanessa replies with a strength she’s spent decades developing, learning how to drop the timbre of her voice and make the ground shake around them. She can’t stop the grin that crosses her face as she moves, crawling onto Charity’s lap, pressing her knees down into the space between Charity’s outer thighs and the edge of the throne. “My wife.”

 

“She’s your Queen, too,” Charity says smartly, curling her arms around Vanessa’s lower back, drawing her closer until they’re chest to chest.

 

“Does that mean she’s supposed to serve me?” Vanessa asks, dropping her hand between their bodies, gradually pulling the hem of Charity’s dress up high enough to allow her to slide her hand between Charity’s thighs.

 

“Only if you reciprocate in kind,” Charity breathes silkily when Vanessa’s fingers move through the heat they find confidently, her eyes glowing like coals.

 

“Don’t leave me again,” Vanessa growls as she shifts herself, pushing her hand further down, sliding deeply inside when Charity parts her thighs to beckon her in. “Do you promise?” she asks as she curls her fingers and picks up a brisk pace.

 

“I promise,” Charity husks, her hands curling around Vanessa’s hips almost painfully as she tips her chin up and arches her back under the pleasure of Vanessa’s fingers. “Although,” Charity muses, “if this is what I draw out of you if I do, then perhaps I need to-“

 

“No,” Vanessa snaps in objection, the movement of her hand halting with an immediacy that makes Charity growl in displeasure. “No,” Vanessa continues, meeting Charity’s eye carefully, “the next time you do that, I’ll remove this from the realm of possibility until you understand that I’m not to be ignored.”

 

“I do love it when you’re sharp,” Charity says as her eyes light in excitement. She takes Vanessa’s chin in the V of her hand, her nails digging lightly into the flesh just below Vanessa’s jaw. “Do you think you’ll be able to resist in kind?” Charity asks curiously.  She runs her tongue along Vanessa’s bottom lip before she kisses her firmly, with the exact cadence that Vanessa prefers, her eyes smug when she pulls away. “Do you?”

 

“Not underestimating me, are you, Hades?” Vanessa asks in a low, warning tone.

 

Charity’s eyes flash at the use of her other name, and Vanessa knows she has Charity’s complete attention. “I wouldn’t dare,” Charity returns, rolling her hips against the hand Vanessa hasn’t completely withdrawn from between her thighs.

 

The confidence in Charity’s eyes tells Vanessa that she thinks she’s already won this game, because she knows the heat against Vanessa’s fingertips is almost too enticing to ignore, and it certainly would be on any other occasion, but Vanessa wants to prove a point now, no, not just wants, she _needs_ to.

 

It pains her to do so, because it’s not only Charity that suffers in a lack of follow through, but it’s somewhat worth it when she watches the confusion colour Charity’s eyes as she slides off her lap and removes her hand in one smooth movement.

 

Vanessa looks over her shoulder once as she begins walking across the throne room, her pulse racing at the look of astonishment and complete frustration on Charity’s face before she turns away, her head held high and a heavy ache between her own thighs.

 

“Vanessa,” Charity says in a tone that makes the foundation stones of the palace shake.

 

It’s just enough to give Vanessa pause in her exit, and she turns on her heel to look back at Charity who has risen up out of her seat. “Don’t doubt my power,” Vanessa says evenly as her hands shake slightly, because she knows exactly what kind of reaction this is going to earn her. She knows exactly what it’s going to push Charity to do.

 

Vanessa has time to blink and nothing else before Charity moves across the room like a wraith, the smoke at her feet carrying her towards Vanessa, and she doesn’t slow whatsoever as she nears her either, she just keeps coming. Vanessa straightens her back the second before Charity makes contact, her arms sliding around Vanessa’s waist as her torso meets Vanessa’s with enough pace to take her breath away sharply and the balance from beneath her feet.

 

She can feel them both falling, can feel the warm air of the room rush through her hair, but they don’t hit the hard ground of the throne room floor. The room changes instead behind the smoke that obscures her vision, and they fall from a height onto the softness of their bed instead, Vanessa flat on her back with Charity rising above her.

 

Vanessa doesn’t hesitate in reaching up and tearing the front of Charity’s dress, splitting the fine fabric straight down the middle of her breastbone. Charity rucks up the fabric of Vanessa’s dress as she fixes her mouth around one of Charity’s nipples, shifting over Vanessa’s hips once she finds bare skin so she can slide inside without ceremony, pushing deeply into Vanessa.

 

The wave of pleasure and stretch is enough to make Vanessa bite down sharply around the sensitive skin between her teeth, and she feels Charity hiss above her before she finds a toe-curling pace.

 

“It wouldn’t have mattered, you know,” Vanessa gasps as Charity’s fingers curl and her lips find the  _thump, thump, thump_ of Vanessa’s pulse in her neck. “It wouldn’t have made a difference if Tracy were there before I took your hand,” Vanessa says breathlessly, feeling Charity slow just slightly as she listens. “My decision would have been the same with or without her in my life,” she adds as Charity leans back to watch her speak. “I still choose you, Charity,” she says clearly, threading her fingers into the hair at the nape of Charity’s neck. “I will always choose you. Always and without exception. I’m sorry if I gave you cause to worry before, I’m sorry for a mourning name, but I love you, and nothing else in any world matters more than that.”

 

“I love you too, you fool,” Charity sighs, her eyes hot and red as she speaks, a relief present in them that Vanessa thinks she means to hide, “and you can mourn whatever you wish, as long as regret never finds you here.”

 

“I don’t regret anything,” Vanessa says firmly, “I never have, Charity, not once in the decades that have passed since you offered me your hand, and I never will so long as you love me.”

 

“I’ll love you until the day we turn to dust, my Persephone,” Charity hums, pushing Vanessa back down against the bed, her hand finding a renewed rhythm between Vanessa’s thighs. “I’ll love you beyond the end of the world.”

 

“You promise?” Vanessa sighs heavily, groaning deeply when Charity pushes inside her again, filling her, warming her from the pit of her belly, out.

 

“Yes, love,” Charity replies with a broad smile, her canines flashing white as her face transforms in a lazy joy at the way Vanessa’s hips move against her hand, hungry for more. “I promise.”

 

Vanessa comes when Charity lays herself along her body, chest to chest, her stomach warm through the fabric of the dress Vanessa is still wearing, and the thrusts of her hand long and heavy and deep. She drags her teeth down the column of Vanessa’s throat as Vanessa tenses around her fingers, tipping her head back and moaning loud and unrestrained, the sound of it echoing off the walls of their bedchamber.

 

“More,” Charity growls as the sound falls from Vanessa’s lips, the volume of Vanessa’s pleasure sparking her insatiability. “More, Vanessa,” she husks against Vanessa’s mouth as her dress burns away from her skin at Charity’s unspoken order, baring her to Charity completely. “I want more.”

 

“Then take it,” Vanessa sighs, bucking her hips as her hands scramble against Charity’s back in their attempt to tear her dress away fully. “It’s yours, Hades,” Vanessa moans as the fabric gives with a deeply satisfying noise and Charity’s lips lower to her chest. “I’m all yours.”

 

-

 

“I’m beginning to think the winter cold has some significant benefits, you know,” Charity says with a huff of air against the nape of Vanessa’s neck.

 

She’s not sure how long it’s been since they returned from Tracy’s feast, the time swirling into a blur of pleasure and hands and moans and teeth and heat until exhaustion had started to pinch at the corner of Vanessa’s eyes.

 

“We can’t even feel it down here,” Vanessa mumbles sleepily, smiling as she does so. She wriggles back against Charity’s front, pulling Charity’s arm tighter over her waist.

 

“No,” Charity grumbles, biting Vanessa’s shoulder with a blunt heaviness, “but I can when I’m forced to leave here.”

 

“Does it make a great difference having me here?” Vanessa asks, genuinely curious. She’s warm from head to toe as Charity aligns herself against her completely, but she feels something else seep into her marrow as Charity nods behind her.

 

“A significant one, love,” Charity replies plainly, brushing her lips over the fading mark of her teeth. “More than I know how to say. It was a torment, the loneliness, torture. And now I have you, spring and light personified, and I can barely remember what it tasted like.”

 

She’s a true romantic when the will finds her, Charity, Vanessa thinks as she brushes the soft skin of her cheek over the expanse of Vanessa’s shoulder. She makes Vanessa feel wanted and desired and loved beyond reason and possibility, she makes her feel adored and honoured and worthy of someone as infinitely powerful as Charity herself.

 

“Do you think they’ll write stories about us in a thousand years?” Vanessa asks lazily, breathing slowly as her muscles relax completely into rest. “Or do you think we will have faded into obscurity by then?”

 

“No,” Charity hums against the bare skin of her shoulder, pressing a kiss to an old human scar that Vanessa’s immortality failed to heal. “I think they’ll tell tales of you and I as long as they have the breath to do so.”

 

“A thousand years is a long time,” Vanessa replies as Charity lines her spine with soft kisses, each touch chasing her hovering fatigue further and further away.

 

“It’ll pass in the blink of an eye,” Charity says silkily, pushing her thigh between Vanessa’s as her hand slides over the curve of Vanessa’s hip beneath the furs of their bed. “And then we’ll begin the next, and the next.”

 

“A thousand years,” Vanessa breathes as Charity fingers dip low and swirl expertly, the pleasure tipping Vanessa over onto her stomach. She slides her hands under the feather pillow as Charity’s weight settles on her back, biting the plushness of it between her teeth when Charity’s hips bear down, pushing Vanessa’s core more firmly against her hand.

 

She knows this won’t ever wane, the way Charity makes her feel like she’s touching her for the first time, the way the heat between them is enough to split the crust of the world above them in half. Her moans become wanton, and Charity’s breathing quickens at her back as her hips roll rhythmically in accompaniment with the movement of her hand.

 

“And then a thousand more,” Charity hums, like speaking it will solidify it into fate and the future path of time. “Whatever shall we do, love?” Charity says innocently, whispering the question against the shell of Vanessa’s ear as she draws Vanessa towards a release, as Vanessa feels her heart lift through the back of her chest as the tension gathers in her stomach. “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”

 

-

 

**Τέλος**

**Telos**

**(an end)**

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> If you fancy a quick read, there’s a ton of little vanity mini fics that aren’t on here over on [tumblr](http://tigerlo.tumblr.com), too. 
> 
> The original fic that this story was based on, ἄπειρον, can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253249/chapters/38113466) if you haven't already read it. This will make a lot more sense having read that.


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